Jean Kirstein (
wipesfaith) wrote2014-05-15 04:58 pm
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04 [written/action]
[Classic incognito message, with the picture blocked out and everything; he even makes an attempt to disguise his handwriting, which he forgets after the first three words.]
Say you want to ask a girl out. How do you go about doing that?
Girls like flowers, right?
[See, there's actually a lot of consideration that goes into this. For a guy with a faulty brain-to-mouth filter and a do-or-die attitude, the amount of waffling here is...strange, maybe. But everyone's a walking contradiction. He has some ideas, along with maybe ten different speeches that he's mentally mapped out over the past three years and never planned on actually using, but second- and third-guessing himself leads to this pandering for advice...thing. He's pretty sure it's lame, but... It couldn't hurt, right?
Okay, so maybe he's just procrastinating.]
[Action]
[Anonymous dweebiness aside, Jean goes about his day as usual. Training at the Battle Dome; going to school; taking care of his horse at the stables, and taking him out for a ride into the woods; and checking the General Store for some...supplies, art supplies. Don't ask, don't tell.]
Say you want to ask a girl out. How do you go about doing that?
Girls like flowers, right?
[See, there's actually a lot of consideration that goes into this. For a guy with a faulty brain-to-mouth filter and a do-or-die attitude, the amount of waffling here is...strange, maybe. But everyone's a walking contradiction. He has some ideas, along with maybe ten different speeches that he's mentally mapped out over the past three years and never planned on actually using, but second- and third-guessing himself leads to this pandering for advice...thing. He's pretty sure it's lame, but... It couldn't hurt, right?
Okay, so maybe he's just procrastinating.]
[Action]
[Anonymous dweebiness aside, Jean goes about his day as usual. Training at the Battle Dome; going to school; taking care of his horse at the stables, and taking him out for a ride into the woods; and checking the General Store for some...supplies, art supplies. Don't ask, don't tell.]
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as opposed to the loser who joined the survey corps instead of the military police?]They are? What do you mean?
[Art is never something Petra's tried to do much herself, never having considered herself a creative person.]
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They just are. Faces have a lot of details, so that's easy to mess up...and if you don't get the body's proportions right it just looks weird.
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That makes sense. Hands must be difficult, then.
[All the little fiddly bits and all.]
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Hands are the freakin' worst.
[He kinda...gives up on them half the time. The struggle is real.]
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[no Petra, don't go around volunteering your superior officers for this kind of thing]
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[Do you know how awkward it would be to stare him down for that long. Do you.]
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[Petra sees no wrong in this idea.]
Or you could ask Captain, but I don't know how patient he would be for that kind of thing.
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Look, I usually just draw stuff from memory. [Because it, you know, doesn't involve other people being anywhere near him while he's doing it.]
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[This would be called networking in another situation]
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[...And as he says this, the bright white light of the electric bulbs overhead fizzles, instantly replaced by the dull glow of old-fashioned lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Jean's gaze jumps up there.]
...The hell?
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It takes her a moment to calm down, but she's not entirely surprised to see the change. It isn't exactly the first time she's seen something weird in the last few days.]
Honestly... that can't be a good sign.
[Though she really prefers the soft glow of the lanterns to the electric lighting...]
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Not this again... [A light sigh.] Not that it's much of an inconvenience, but something must be up. Either they're doing it on purpose, or...
[Something tells him that isn't the case.]